


Thoughts Over A Campfire

by mimikametamorphosis



Series: Heroes Of Olympus One Shots [2]
Category: The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Death, Gen, Hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 20:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9921002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimikametamorphosis/pseuds/mimikametamorphosis
Summary: Reyna, on her way to deliver the Athena Parthenos to prevent bloodshed between the two camps, reflects on the events that have transpired thus far. Though triumphant she may be, lingering feelings of loss still creep into her heart.





	

The past few days have been _interesting_ – to say the least. A more accurate term would be depressing, but that would undermine all the other events that have transpired and magnify her troubles a hundredfold. She did not need to be reminded much of her struggles. She wanted them to drift with the wind and leave her. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

Each night, she feared to see those images racing in her mind: the horrors that she faced while traveling to the ancient lands, coming at her one after the other, was enough experience to last her a lifetime. To see them again every night was simply torture: waking up in a cold sweat and screaming, sending her companions into frenzy – the fawn wielding a club, claiming to clobber anyone within a 2-meter radius, was far less comfort than the apathetic one. However noble and gallant her excursion was, – not many demigods can say that they have crossed the ancient lands and survived, much less come back – loss overshadowed her triumph and intensified her grief.

Losing Scipio was the hardest to endure in her journey. She remembered the times when they landed in order to rest, yet monsters attacked them. There was no rest when you travel to the ancient lands; the exhaustion from defending yourself was enough to kill anyone. Being blessed by the war goddess, her mother Bellona, was the trump card she needed. Feeling infinitely powerful and invincible, she charged on without a moment wasted. Trudging down her bloody path, she lost herself in her own power and continued to pursue the Argo II blindly. She would carelessly take down any monster, ignoring the damage done to herself. With each victory, she felt even more powerful, more indomitable, that nothing could stop her in this quest.

Tragedy struck when she suddenly fell out of the sky. Falling a mile a minute, she remembered who had kept her up in the air, the one who enabled her to keep moving: Scipio. Her loyal Pegasus, her most trusted comrade, had lost his ability to fly. With the fall stripping her of her might, Reyna began to feel the damage her friend sustained in her blind fit: she felt the muscles on the Pegasus’ back stiffen, his wings folded at his side. Drops of blood flew to her face as she realized she had not treated him for his injuries; and there were gashes across his neck and upon closer inspection of his face, she saw how deep the slashes, which stretched from his left eye to his snout, were.

She chocked back a sob and cradled the Pegasus’ limp head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered softly. “I was blind, foolish. I was absorbed with fighting, drunk with myself and my power, that I did not notice you, my friend.” She bit her lip, trying to stifle her sobs. Her eyes were filled with tears; they ran down her face, over fresh wounds which stung. But nothing could compare to what her Scipio had received in payment for her tirade. She would give anything to undo what she had done. For him, and for him alone, she was ready to brave those seas, those monsters again; she was ready to relive this nightmare if only she could save her Pegasus.

She remembered praying to her mother to save her Pegasus. She remembered the vulnerability that came with it. She had never asked anything of her. Asking her own mother was like asking a complete stranger to help her save a bloodied Pegasus. It was not acceptable, but it needed to be done.

“Please!” She cried to the heavens. Her tears flew upwards and she wished that her mother would receive them and feel her anguish. “Mother, if you can hear me, please! Please, save Scipio! I will give you anything, just please, save him!”

She clung to the Pegasus tightly and tried to listen to his heart; it was faint, but still present.

“Please!” She remembered yelling with all the strength she had left.

Nothing happened; no sign from her mother. She clenched her fists and shut her eyes tight. Her teeth dug into her lower lip, cutting it and allowing blood to drip to her chin.

At that time, she was reminded of how lonely she was. She may have a sister but has only recently reconciled with her and it did not ease the loneliness she has felt over the years; continually growing with each day that passes, this loneliness has been her burden since she was a child.

In being a demigod, more often than not, you only had one parent: your mortal parent. Your godly parent could never interfere with you not because they do not love you – although, she was beginning to rethink that sentiment – but because they could not. It was the law, thus it shall be practiced. As the daughter of the war goddess, Bellona, she knew all too well how following orders ensured the unity and peace among the people in an army and a nation. With a tangled mess as the gods of ancient times, unity and peace were welcome ideals.

However, like any other demigod, she had to wonder whether her mother really cared for her. Her father had; he never wasted any minute in letting her know how much he loved and cherished both her and her sister. However, like all heroes, tragedy struck and took her father away. She had never cried so much in her life: her eyes burned from all the sobbing; her lungs were almost out of breath; and her heart felt as those they broke into a million small pieces that putting it completely back together was an inconceivable task. She had never felt so alone and hurt before – until now.

Losing Scipio was like opening a healing wound; it was like breaking the pieces of her heart into smaller, barely noticeable pieces just as it began to fit together perfectly.

Thunder boomed across the sky and lightning struck the sea. As though rejuvenated, Scipio began to spread his already fragile wings. Reyna felt the muscles on his back loosen and, slowly, his legs began to move.

“Scipio,” she said, uncertainty in her voice. She looked into the Pegasus’ eyes. A small light flickered in the dark depths of his eyes.

“Oh, Scipio!” Overjoyed, she flung her arms around the Pegasus’ neck; he whinnied happily, although weakly, in reply.

“Just a little more,” Reyna said, her sprits lifted and gripping her sword tightly. “Just a little more and it will be over. We can rest.” Scipio snorted and pulled upwards as they touched the seawaters.

She remembered how relieved she was at the thought that her mother listened. She was glad to know that she was there when she needed her. For once in her life as a demigod, she had never been so thankful to have a goddess for a mother.

He arms burned where the letters SQPR were scrawled. Her tattered purple cape, a symbol of her position and power as a Praetor, billowed majestically behind her. For the first time in days, she felt she had regained her purpose. With hope burning inside her, they continued on their search for the Argo II.

They conquered monsters and scaled mountains until they saw the faint silhouette of the Argo II in the early morning light that bathed the House of Hades, the Necromanteion, in lively shades of warm colors.

“We’re here Scipio!” Reyna cheered. She patted the Pegasus’ neck and kissed his head. “We made it, boy.”

As though she said a taboo word, Scipio began to slowly descend. His muscles were stiffening again and his wings were slowly folding to his side.

Reyna pulled on his reigns to get his attention. “Scipio! Scipio, what’s wrong?” They began to descend at an alarming rate now; the Argo II began inching closer with every passing second.

“Scipio, we’re going to crash! Come on, boy! We’re almost there!” She cried, tears welling up in her eyes.

The Pegasus spread his wings ever-so slightly and glided onto the ship’s deck.

Upon contact with the wooden floor, Scipio collapsed on his side, his wings folded over his body. Reyna stood over his limp body and examined the damage done. Her tears began falling down her face and her hand cupped her mouth. She could not bear to see her most loyal companion in this state; a state she inflicted on him.

“KILL!”

Someone from behind began to rush towards her. Her sword drawn and her cape flowing behind her, concealing Scipio, as she turned to face her would-be assailant.

Her blade pressed against the fawn’s scrawny neck. “Who are you?” She demanded, eyes narrowed at the form quivering before her. Even in her most unfortunate moments, she radiated power. It instilled fear into those who dared cross her path.

She eyed his baseball cap and withdrew her sword. “You,” she said pensively. “You’re that fawn.”

“I-I-I am!” He stood up and dusted himself, straightening his cap. “I’m Coach Hedge, the chaperone of the cupcakes riding this big ol’ boat.” His hands rested on his hips and he stood in a domineering manner; it would have been effective had he been taller than Reyna’s nose.

“I am Reyna, Praetor of 12th Legion of Rome. Annabeth sent me here.”

“Annabeth?” Coach Hedge practically choked on his own words. “How’s that possible? She’s in Tartarus!”

Reyna’s eyes widened. She had flown half-way across the world, spurred halfheartedly by hope, to find that what she had been told was true: Annabeth and Percy were really in Tartarus.

“What’s the situation? What happened?” Thoughts raced through her mind. Her journey to the ancient lands was nothing compared to journeying through Tartarus.

“The kids are handling it. They’ll be back soon.” Coach Hedge said mostly to himself, his eyes glazing over.

Reyna was lost in her thoughts until she heard the softest whinny Scipio had ever let out. Her heart broke and she had never hated herself as much as she did in this instance. Her dear Scipio, barely clinging onto life and she busied herself with other less pressing matters.

“Quick!” Coach Hedge almost jumped out his shirt. “Get me water! Get me some bandages! Get me nectar and ambrosia! Anything!”

She unclasped her caped and covered the shivering body of her Pegasus. Coach Hedge peered over her shoulder and saw the heartbreaking scene.

“Please!” She said as her voice broke. “Please,” she said pleadingly, this time. “I don’t want to lose him. I need all the help I can get.”

Her eyes met Coach Hedge’s.

“I,” he said softly. He cleared his throat and turned away. Reyna was not sure whether she caught tears flowing from his eyes as he turned away from her.

“There’s nothing you can do,” he said grimly. “No amount of treatment can heal him now.”

Her insides boiled and her anger ran through her veins. She seized him by his collar and held him up that his hooves did not touch the floor.

“I am not going to lose him,” she said warningly slow. “You will help me save him no matter what, got it?”

Her tears were falling uncontrollably and her nose was congested that she began breathing through her mouth. The brisk morning air scratched her throat and she began to cough.

“Look,” the fawn said, barely able to breathe. “Trust me when I say that there is nothing you can do at this point! I would help you if I could! I would! I’m a satyr! I’ll help any animal in need! But trust me when I tell you that there is nothing that can save him now.”

“Had you acted quickly and gotten the things I needed, we could have started treating him!”

Her grip tightened and she began to tremble.

“Had you actually done something, he would be in better shape right now! I know Scipio! HE CAN WITHSTAND ANYTHING! He can travel great distances and conquer monsters like no other Pegasus in this world! He is a magnificent and loyal companion beyond compare!”

Her knees began to tremble. She set down the fawn but did not loosen her hold on his collar.

“You should have listened! You say you know about animals? Then you should have done something about him! He’s in trouble and you’re not doing anything! You can see his pain, his injuries, yet you do nothing! How can you be so cruel?”

Her voice broke as she tried to choke down a sob.

“You saw what the seas did to him yet you just stand there. You can see his limp body sprawled before you and you cannot do anything.”

She was talking mostly to herself now. Her heart was aching.

“He can brave through anything,” she said softly. “I know I can help him.”

She bit her lower lip and fell to her knees. “I—I—”

She released the fawn and pounded the deck.

“I could’ve stopped and help you! I could’ve prevented all this! I should have done my best to protect you instead of pushing you despite your injuries!”

She was sobbing uncontrollably with her head bowed. She had never felt so useless – so worthless and pathetic. Of all the things she should have protected, Scipio had always been one of her top priorities: New Rome, the Legion, and Scipio. She never saw herself as worth protecting. She was the one who needed to protect those most important to her even at the cost of her own life.

Now that she as failed to do so, she feels inadequate to lead and protect her comrades. How can she save them if she could at least save her precious Pegasus?

Coach Hedge cleared his throat. Her sobbing began to weaken but she still whimpered.

“Your horse doesn’t think that.”

“What?”

“I-I mean your Pegasus! He doesn’t think that you’ve failed in anything.”

“How did you—”

“I’m a satyr. I know about animals, remember?”

He walked closer to her and offered her a handkerchief.

“Thank you.” She accepted it without a second thought. Crying like that in front of someone was inexcusable for a legionnaire – much more a Praetor.

“He thinks that he’s done his best in serving one of the best soldiers he could ever imagine. He has no regrets and he wishes to rest peacefully. He wishes that you stop crying because there is nothing to cry about. You have done your job beautifully, as he puts it. Even if it was at his expense, he would do it all over again as long as you are at his side. He wants you to regret nothing. He was glad to serve you and he would not like to see you in this state.”

Reyna tried to contain her grief but Scipio’s thoughts pierced her heart and she began crying again.

“He says that in every battle, sacrifices must be made in order for it to succeed. He said that he learned that from you. Even if he is the sacrifice that you must make, he welcomes it with open arms.”

“Oh, Scipio!”

She flung her arms around the Pegasus’ head.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I was not able to spare you.” She spoke softly. “Even in my selfishness you keep me in high regard. I do not deserve praise. You deserve praise. You endured more than what I can ever imagine. You are triumph in all its glory.”

“He says it’s time,” Coach said solemnly. “He said that there is only one way for him to really rest peacefully.”

“I-I,” Reyna started.

She stood still for a moment, trying to compose herself. Once her trembling had weakened she took her sword.

“Scipio,” she cooed. She rested her head on her Pegasus’ head. “You have served Rome and me brilliantly, gallantly, and faithfully.”

She nuzzled him and kissed his cold, dry snout.

“I love you, my friend. I love you dearly.”

She poured all of her affection into every word and raised her dagger.

“I know we will meet again. With this, may you rest in peace.”

She met his eyes and almost hesitated. Seeing those darks eyes reminded her of the loneliness that she will once again bear alone. She remembered the little girl who cried uncontrollably after losing her father. She remembered separating from her sister and living in isolation.

There was no escaping it. However, if this was what fate had destined for her, she will walk on this path and brave its tribulations with as much passion and dignity expected from a Praetor and a daughter of Bellona.

It is what she expects of herself; it is what her mother expects of her; it is what her father expects of her; most importantly, it is what Scipio expects of her.

She thrust her dagger into Scipio’s neck. He burst into a cloud of golden dust and drifted with the wind. He flew upwards and disappeared into the clouds.

“He said thank you.”

Reyna picked up her cape and covered herself with it. She collapsed into a fetal position as she let out all her anger and grief. Her eyes burned and her wounds stung as tears fell. Her yells were the most painful she had let out; her stomach twisted into knots and her head felt as though the mast of the Argo II had fallen on it. She felt sick. She felt hurt. She closed her eyes tight and prayed – prayed to her mother, prayed to the gods – to help her through this ordeal.

She stopped after a while. She breathed heavily and calmed herself.

Enough was enough. She has a duty to Rome and to the world. She does not have the luxury of breaking down like the little girl she once was.

She got up and wiped her tears off the floor with her cape.

“Uhm,” Coach Hedge said with uncertainty. “Should you really be doing that? That cape looks expensive and royal.”

“It is nothing but a piece of cloth. It can be replaced.” She said as she scrubbed the deck. “It does not radiate power; power comes from me.”

Her voice was steady and compelling.

“Okay,” Coach Hedge said as he trotted to the front of the deck. “I’ll be keeping lookout here. You er—”

“I’ll patrol the deck. I cannot burden you any longer.”

“Okidoki, then,” the coach chewed on a soda can he took out from his pocket.

Reyna leaned on the railing and took in the beautiful scenery before her: the calm green sea and the blue sky. It’s as though nothing had happened. She knew better.

It happened. It needed to happen. It was over for now.

She closed her eyes and inhaled the salty air. She trembled as she exhaled, but with each breath the trembling started to disappear.

She looked at the part of the sky where Scipio had flown to: the part of the sky where the clouds parted to let sunshine through.

She felt warm; as though her mother were embracing her – at least that was what she would like to think.

She knew it will take time for her to get over losing Scipio. She cannot, however, afford the distraction that grief brought upon her.

She decided to bury and lock it away for now and soldier on. It’s what she does best, after all.

“Hey,” a voice said. “Do you want the rest of the Pork and Beans?”

“What?”

“If coach eats any more of these,” he leaned in closer, “we’ll have a concert tonight.”

Reyna was snapped back into the present time.

She and her companions sat around a camp fire: Nico diAngelo to her right, Coach Hedge to her left.

The large Ivory statue of the Greek goddess Athena, Minerva in Rome, stood opposite her. How they managed to stay out of trouble for this long escaped her. Still, she was thankful.

“Oh,” Reyna said as she turned to look at the fawn wolfing down his second helping.

Reyna took the can from the olive-skinned boy.

While eating her ration, she regarded him carefully: his old aviator jacket made him look twice his size; his eyes were sunken and were lined with black circles beneath them; his wrists were quite thin that he looks as though a gust of wind would break his fragile frame.

“What is it?”

The boy turned to her and narrowed his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Reyna said, turning back to her food.

“I get it. I’m weird.”

Nico said dismissively. But Reyna felt the bitterness in his tone.

“You’re not.”

“Oh yeah? Then why where you looking at me like that?” He challenged her, prodding his spoon in her direction.

“I was just thinking how much you needed some rest that’s all. You look tired.”

“Well, I don’t need you to tell me that.”

Nico gulped down the last of his share and tossed the can at the fawn.

“Thank you!”

“Shh!” Reyna warned. “We don’t know what lurks here and it’s best we stay unnoticed.”

“I’ll take the first—”

“I’ll take the first watch,” Reyna cut him off. “You,” she pointed at Nico, “go to sleep. You’ve exhausted yourself with travelling too much. It’s taking its toll on you.”

Nico grumbled something under his breath and made his way for his sleeping bag.

“If we need to go right away, just wake me up and we’ll leave at that instant.”

Nico turned away from the fire and let out a yawn.

“I will.”

Reyna sat against the foot of the statue. She made sure she had a view of both Nico and the coach, who was now sleeping on a bed of leaves.

She was determined to protect them at all costs. She will fight no matter what.

She will bring the Athena Parthenos to Half-blood Hill and stop the impending bloodshed. She will fight the giants and defeat Gaea. She will lead her legion to victory.

She is the daughter of the war goddess, Bellona. She is the daughter of her proud father. She is the sister of Hylla, Queen of the Amazons. She is the master of Scipio, the gallant Pegasus.

She is Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano, the Praetor of the 12th Legion.


End file.
